


Christmas Past and Present

by HyperionScience



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Ice Skating, M/M, minor hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 23:04:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17150753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperionScience/pseuds/HyperionScience
Summary: Little snippets of Christmas, across years.





	Christmas Past and Present

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas Jinetixart! I hope the fic is everything you were hoping for!   
> A few notes:  
> It literally killed me to not call this "Love Rhacktually", but I had the perfect dorks in love concept and simply had to go with Tim. I'm so sorry.  
> It also killed me to not say "Love Rhacktually" in chat at all.   
> That's about it, really...   
> Merry Christmas again!

December 19th, last year.

The office Christmas party is never Tim’s scene. The upper floors all congregate in the same few rooms, drinking and shouting as Christmas carols play loudly from a wireless speaker planted firmly on the CEO’s Desk. Jack was sitting back at his desk, feet up, wearing a hideous sweater depicting Santa pissing “Merry Christmas” onto a roof. Around him several of his subordinates from high-end accounting and his personal legal team leaned in, embroiled in a story the man was telling, gesturing in huge sweeping motions. Hyperion had, Tim realized, changed a bit. Lucky they had gotten out of eridium mining while they had. Jack had retreated from Pandora to enjoy all of the cushiness of a job as a tech mogul, and his body double was happy for the change. Some people were still taking time to adjust.   
Wilhelm sat in a corner of the party, glaring at his laptop. Tim sat silently next to him, peeking over.   
“That’s, um... “  
“Porn Virus. I know.” Wilhelm grunted. Since Jack had withdrawn from the Vault Hunting game, but Wilhelm was still on contract, Jack had made him head of HR. It was a big adjustment. Workplace complaints were down about 80% though.  
“You should take it to IT.”  
The older man grunted again, and Tim saw an opportunity.   
“I’ll take it down for you, and then bring it back once it’s fixed!”  
Wilhelm considered this for a moment, eventually closing his laptop and handing it to Tim.   
“Throw it out the airlock for all I care. Hate the thing. Come back with a gun or something.”  
Tim gave him a sympathetic look, clutching the computer as he weaved past the partygoers to the elevator.   
He rode down a few floors to IT, where luckily not a lot was going on.   
“Um…. Hello?”  
“Oh! Welcome to IT have you tried-.” A man rounds the corner, His mismatched eyes widening as he sees Tim.  
“Oh! Hello sir!” The young man greets who he assumes to be his boss. He was tall, and lanky beyond belief, with expertly styled hair. Tim noticed right away that he had mismatched eyes, just like Jack. And just like him, He guessed.   
“Oh, I’m not- I’m just a-” He was allowed to disclose that he was a double, in fact, Jack now required it. He didn’t want Tim in his office, or talking to upper-level employees. He was a glorified cardboard standee nowadays.   
“I’m one of his copies, just running an errand.” He smiles a bit, holding up the laptop.  
The man before him lights up with recognition, likely seeing his lack of mask or the presence of basic manners.   
“Oh! Of course! Yeah, here, let me see it.” He reaches for the computer, setting it down in front of him. He opens it up and blinks.   
“That is… A lot of dicks.”  
Tim nodded.   
He felt a blush creeping up his cheeks, as he watched the man attach a cable to the laptop and plug the other end into a port on his forehead.   
“I-is that safe?”  
“Well, I mean, Not safe for work.” He chuckled. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. I’m Rhys, by the way. Here’s my card.” He handed Tim a laminated business card. It was the same as everyone else’s: Grey, emblazoned with the bright yellow Hyperion H. There was a phone number, typed neatly under his name and position.   
“Oh, um, thanks!” He sat down, watching him work in silence. He had never seen someone type so fast. 

December 21st, last year

Time stared at the card in his hand. Is he really going to call the cute IT guy? He milled it over for almost the entire day, sitting at his desk. Nisha walks over on her way to Jack’s office, looking at him with a smug smirk. He smiles awkwardly, and she just grins all the more when she sees the blush creep into his cheeks.   
He was totally hopeless.   
He did some of his deskwork, trying not to look at his cell phone and failing miserably. The artificial window in his office displayed a large backyard, where snow was falling over acres of fields. He had, at Jack’s insistence, decorated his tiny office, primarily with gold tinsel. A tiny plastic fir tree sat on his desk, which he had decorated with lights controlled by his laptop. Today, they glowed a warm white.  
He had to call him. But under what pretense? You couldn’t just call up someone who works for a guy you look a lot like and ask him on… on what? A date? Tim blushed even more at the thought. He hadn’t been on a real date since… Well, now that would hardly count as a date… what about-  
The realization that he had never been on a real date hit him like a sack of bricks. He stopped typing, picked up his phone, and dialed the number.  
The phone rang once, then twice. This was, Tim thought, likely the worst idea he had ever had. Well, second worst.   
“Hello, Hyperion IT, Rhys speaking. Have you tried turning it off and back on again?”  
“Oh, um, hi Rhys! It’s Tim. Uh, one of Jack’s doubles.”  
“Oh yeah!” He could almost hear the smile through the phone. “HR guy didn’t open another questionable email, did he?”  
“No, not yet…” For a man who could build robots, Wilhelm was inept at computers. “This is more of a, um, personal call?”  
“Oh, ok, sure! What do you need?”   
Tim paused. What did he need?   
“Do you, uh… want to get a coffee sometime?”

December 22nd, last year

He met Rhys outside a little coffee shop on the recreation deck of Helios. The artificial weather of the station was set to a frosty chill, and Tim thanked the meteorologist as Rhys, even in his winter coat, walked closer to him for warmth. They drank their drinks and laughed as they went, peering into the windows of shops and things that lined the metal street inside the biggest part of Helios.   
“So, how long have you worked for Hyperion?” Tim asked, holding a piping cup of cider in two gloved hands, walking at Rhys’ side towards the large skating rink. A pair of loaders were diligently maintaining the large patch of ice, as people skated in circles. It almost reminded Tim of a real city. It almost made him forget how far he was from home.  
“Oh, about four years. Dream job.” He beams like he is the luckiest man in the world. Tim believes it.   
Rhys opens his mouth like he is about to say something, but seems to reconsider. He walks away, just a smidge, reaching out and placing a hand on Tim’s arm, pulling him gently into line to rent ice skates. A warm blush rises to Tim’s cheeks as he falls in next to him, once again stepping quite close for warmth as well as to escape the crowd.  
They get their skates and sit side by side, nearly touching. They talk then, laughing and smiling as Tim stands, holding out his hand to Rhys to help him to his feet.  
Rhys takes it and smiles, following Tim onto the ice. He slides out onto the ice, hand in hand with Rhys. He feels the round slip out from under him, hears Rhys shout in surprise, and feels a sharp pain shoot through his ankle.   
Disoriented and in pain, Rhys helps him up, calling out to some surer-footed strangers to help get him off the ice.   
“I’m sorry, oh geez, oh fu-” Tim can feel himself starting to ramble, assuring everyone that he can get his skates off himself, thank you very much. By this time, Rhys had called for the nearest station medic, who had shown up to escort Tim to his office.   
Rhys walked with him the whole way, reassuring Tim every time he apologized that he didn’t have a reason to be sorry.   
The sprain was minor, but the medic was firm in his prescription of a tensor bandage and a pair of crutches for at least two weeks. When he left the office, Rhys was waiting for him.

December 24th, last year.

“Hey, sorry to call you on Christmas Eve,” Tim said, to Rhys’ answering machine. “Just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas, and whatnot… Sorry again for uh… Being incredibly clumsy. Are we still on for dinner on the 4th?” He felt even more awkward talking to a machine than he did talking to the man’s face, and he sighed.   
“I… I miss you. Is that weird? We’ve only just met. Might be the time of year. I’m so sorry.”   
He was sitting alone in his little room next to Jack’s private living quarters. It was nice enough, with a bedroom, bathroom, and even a little kitchenette. He was planted firmly in an armchair, his injured ankle set on a pillow on his coffee table. He always got homesick this time of year. It was silly, it had been about 8 years.   
“Anyways, let me know about dinner. I’ll uh… talk to you later Rhys. Bye.” He hung up the phone, laying his head back in the nest of pillows he had made.   
December 25th, 8 years ago.

Things were good. Tim smiled as he sat next to the fireplace. He was back from college, a semester away from graduating, and back for the holidays. His mother smiled, handing him a cup of tea, which he took very carefully so as not to disturb the cat on his lap. He remembered very little about that Christmas, aside from that is was the last merry one he could remember. The smell of the artificial fireplace log burning in the fireplace, the steaming tea fogging his glasses, the shuffling of his mother’s slippers on the threadbare carpet. It was warm and fuzzy around the edges, an old memory he liked to turn over in his hands sometimes. He couldn’t remember much else…

December 25th, last year.

Tim awoke from his pleasant dream to a text on his phone.   
“I miss you too, Tim. Merry Christmas.”  
He smiled, clutching his phone to his chest. It felt just as warm.

December 16th, this year.

The office Christmas party has never been Tim’s scene. But it wasn’t really Rhys’ either. He smiled and talked politely to the upper-level employees, but Tim realized that his boyfriend was out of his element. These guys didn’t know computers, of course they didn’t. Tim had introduced him to his coworkers, and he had even managed to get Wilhelm’s laptop working even after he had thrown it out the airlock. The party was in full swing, and Tim had offered him a drink, and they stood close together, trying to talk over the blaring of Jack’s Christmas music. Rhys had dressed up, wearing a red sweater that said “I’ve been Naughty” across the chest. Tim blushed a little every time he looked at it, eliciting a giggle from Rhys each time. They drank a little, and danced a little, making chitchat with each other and with co-workers until Tim finally pulled Rhys aside, hand in hand.   
“Feeling overwhelmed, wanna head out?” Rhys asked, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on the back of Tim’s hand.   
“Something like that.” He said with a little smile, leaning in and kissing him sweetly.   
“Oh, I see how it is.” Rhys grinned, and the two of them walked arm in arm to Tim’s quarters, making sure the door was locked behind them.

December 17th, this year.

They woke up in Tim’s too small bed, cuddled up as close as possible, the cool metal of Rhys’ arm making Tim shiver. He slipped quietly from the bed, putting the tea kettle on, gently drumming his fingers on the countertop as he waited for the water to come to a boil. He reveled in how comfortable he had become since he and Rhys had started dating. This time last year, he wouldn’t have stood in his kitchen in nothing but his boxers. It was surprising, but pleasantly so. He pulled out his teapot, which was adorned with a green knit cozy for the holidays. He carefully poured the near-boiling water into the teapot, leaving the teabag in to steep. Then he nearly jumped out of his skin as an ice-cold finger brushed his back.   
“Heh, never gets old.” Rhys chuckled, going in for a hug.  
Tim laughed, trying to catch his breath, hugging him back.   
“You’re the worst.”  
“And yet you love me anyway.”  
“Yeah,” Tim laughed, kissing his forehead. “Yeah, I do.”

December 25th, this year.

The fireplace roared, the tree was aglow, and Rhys and Tim were sitting cuddled up on the tiny loveseat.   
“Oh geez, I can’t believe you spent last Christmas alone with a sprained ankle. I mean, I can, cause I was there, but… Y’know.”  
Tim shrugs.   
“It wasn’t too bad.”  
They had opened their presents a while ago, mostly showering each other with little things. The blanket draped over them was new too, shockingly a gift from Jack, as he had overheard Tim complaining about how cold the station was.   
“Wanna watch a movie?” Rhys asks, standing up and walking towards the little tv, shuffling through the binder of disks. He had brought them from his place, since he spent more time here than there lately, and aside from his laptop they seemed to be the one thing he couldn’t live without.   
“Sure. What are you thinking? A Christmas Story? Rudolph?”  
“I was thinking Die Hard.” Said Rhys, holding up the DVD.  
Tim cocked an eyebrow “I’ve never seen it.”   
Rhys only rolled his eyes and smiled.   
“Oh, Tim. Oh Tim, Tim, Tim. You are in for the ride of a lifetime.”  
He laughed, and Rhys snuggled back up to him on the couch. 

Now this was what Tim called a Merry Christmas.


End file.
